September’s Morn

Each year we gather our painful remembrances

of a sun swept day.

It was a Tuesday, not unlike many others…

an election day.

We stopped to cast votes as we went to work. We were

confident and young.

A short line to vote…Not too much of a delay

—But it was enough.

We walked holding hands. First came noise, then came the news

as people ran past.

The sunlight was dimmed – sirens wailing…a crushing sound

as towers crashed down.

We remember it – it was a roaring silence.

So impossible.

We walked together. Thousands walking together.

Walking in silence.

Friends and lovers – gone. We remember those we lost and

cherish those we found.

The scenes are burn scars – always to be encountered —

on September’s morn.


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